Disclaimer: I own nothing but Kimera.
AN: Hello all :) This is the first chapter of a story I had brewing around in my head. Please enjoy
DON'T MIND ME I'M A LINE BREAK
This night is alive with the smell of insane
It's reaching for me and it's calling my name
I beg for silence to drown out their weep
How did this asylum become where I sleep
So ashamed of waking
All my life you failed to keep me safe
My whole world's forsaken
Won't let you destroy my faith again
All my questions get no answers
Locked up tight from the world outside me
NO, NO
Mommy come get me out tonight
All my questions have no answers
I can feel the fear inside me
NO, NO
Mommy come get me out tonight
~St John, We Are The Fallen
DON'T MIND ME I'M A LINE BREAK
As the battle for Wave raged on, with the virulent chakra of the Kyuubi starting to surge out of it's container, Naruto Uzumaki, just two miles away, deep under the ocean's surface, something began to stir.
The water began to churn and bubble, lights dancing and swirling underneath the surface. Something was becoming agitated by the demonic chakra that could be felt for miles. The lights converged, and formed an intricate looking seal on the water's surface.
With a sudden burst of energy, the seal shattered, sending shock waves across the ocean. Unfortunately, the nearest shinobi were those fighting on the bridge, and none of them even noticed the energy surge, far too distracted fighting for their lives.
The waters started to calm, and something began to breach the ocean surface. First, a human head appeared, surrounded by long soaking wet, jet black hair. The boy didn't even appear to be breathing hard, despite having been sealed at the ocean floor for far longer than any human could have survived.
The boy started to swim for shore, kicking his legs and swimming with steady strokes despite his long time in captivity. Manacles with the short, torn chains were still attached to his hands, feet and throat, encrusted with a huge number of seals. By now, all of the seals had split and worn away, leaving the chains heavily scarred and corroded.
It took almost twenty minutes for the boy to reach the shore, dragging himself out onto the sandy beach. He was panting lightly and the clothes he was wearing were little more than rags, doing little to cover up his snow white skin.
He was lightly muscled, and looked like he had missed a great many meals. He pushed himself to his feet and stared at the chains hanging off of him. Pure rage flashed through his pale red eyes, and with a inhuman snarl, the boy tore them off, ripping through the rusted iron like it was paper.
The chains fell to the ground with a heavy clank, and the boy stretched as his energy returned. How long had he been imprisoned? When he got his hands on those priests, he was going to peel the flesh from their bones.
But first, he needed to reacquaint himself with the world. What had changed since his sealing? And then he needed to begin building his strength again. The priests might have had time to rebuild their order and their numbers while he was imprisoned.
The damn priests had been thorough with their seals. They'd somehow managed to strip all of the abilities and skills that he'd absorbed! It was going to be almost impossible to regain all of them. Some of them might not even exist any more.
And it was all because of that man with the ripple patterned eyes . . .
Him and his strange techniques, without them, the priests would never have been able to restrain him long enough to seal him away. Still, he was lucky that they'd been stupid enough to use iron, and even with as many seals as they'd used, salt water still rusted iron.
Still, if it wasn't for that malicious energy that had spiked earlier, he might have slept for who knows how many more years until the seals were worn away.
The boy stood for a moment, breathing in the crisp ocean air. He could smell large amounts of blood from a number of people a mile or two to the north. It was probably the best place to start.
He started to walk, trying to get used to the act of walking again. He was only hampered by his hair. It reached down past the back of his knees! It was so tempting to just reach back and hack the lot off, but he didn't have anything to cut it with. The priests had seen to that.
With a growl, he reached back, and gathering it all up, wrapped it loosely around his right arm. Change of plans, first thing he was going to do was find a blade and chop it all off. The boy sprinted faster, leaping into the trees easily, and running along the branches.
DON'T MIND ME I'M A LINE BREAK
It didn't take him long to reach the area where the scent of blood was coming from, and what he found made his eyes widen.
There was a large man, heavily muscled, with one arm hanging uselessly by his side, a huge sword in his other, and a strange knife in his mouth. He was surrounded by the corpses of what looked like bandits, but there were still a great deal more alive standing behind the short fat man that the big guy was threatening.
He couldn't hear what the man was saying, but he took the chance to study the people at the other end of the bridge. There was an old man and a crying girl, with pink hair of all things, kneeling over an unconscious boy with black hair and needles stabbed all over his body. He could smell something from the boy, some unique talent, but the boy was weak.
It wasn't worth the effort to try and replicate his ability. The older man with grey hair had a much weaker, but at the same time stronger, version of the same thing, and he debated with himself he should try and replicate his, but eventually decided against it. The ability was too unstable to be properly absorbed.
The blond though . . . now he was interesting. He could sense the malicious energy bubbling and simmering inside the boy, and he knew that the kid was someone he should avoid. He couldn't risk getting into a fight with something like that until he regained much of his former strength. The energy sort of reminded him of that ten tailed demon . . . but it was as if it was only a fraction of that creatures power . . . and how had it been sealed into a child?
There were too many questions, and no where near enough answers. The boy's eyes landed on the battered and broken body of an effeminate looking boy, clearly dead to his enhanced senses. He couldn't quite contain the shiver that ran across his skin when he scented the boys power.
Oh yes, this was the one he was looking for. He hoped that they simply buried the body rather than burning it like some humans were prone to doing. He couldn't sense a priest for miles, so maybe it was just these strange warriors here.
It was odd though. It was like these people had a perfect balance between physical and spiritual energies, rather than the over abundance of spiritual energy found in priests, or the almost complete reliance on physical energy that samurai had. It was only the four teens and the two fit looking men that had it though, not the unruly rabble, the fat man, or the mass of villagers approaching from the other end of the bridge.
He leant back against the tree trunk. All he had to do was wait and watch, and if it looked like the body of the teen was going to be destroyed, well, maybe he would have to interfere. Still, the temptation of new information and a start to regaining his power was making him twitch in anticipation.
He watched the drama unfold, keeping an eye on the boy's body while the villagers drove the bandits away after the death of the fat man. That cloning ability that the silver haired man used made him sit up sharply. Information gathering just made it to the top of the list.
Finally, they buried the boy and the muscled man, who died shortly after the bandits had been run off, using the sword as a grave marker. He flitted around the trees, not making a sound and confident that none of the surviving warriors would be able to sense him.
When they'd all left, he leapt down from the tree to land beside the fresh grave. He immediately began to dig, keeping his senses open for anyone approaching. When he reached the boy's body in the shallow grave, he dragged it out, thankful of the pristine condition of the boy's skull.
He grimaced, this was by far his least favourite activity. The taste of brain lingered for days, and it was unpleasant to say the least.
With a one last sigh, he bit down into the flesh and bone of the boy's skull, tearing through it with his tough jaws and teeth. The boy quickly ate his way to Haku's brain, devouring the soft tissue in a matter of minutes.
He rose to his feet unsteadily, blood smeared down his chin. He stumbled away from the corpse and fell to the ground, writhing as his genetic structure changed and evolved and memories and information flooded his mind.
After a few minutes, he opened his eyes, staring up at the sky as he processed the new information.
Kekkai Genkai. Hidden Villages. Shinobi. Chakra. Hyouton. Ninjutsu. Taijutsu. Genjutsu. Missing Nin.
Everything that Haku knew, now he knew. The full implications of how the world had changed hit him.
Those damn priests no longer existed.
Special abilities, or Kekkai Genkai, were far, far more common nowadays, instead of being a one in ten thousand chance of having one.
Ninjutsu and Genjutsu . . . there were thousands of possibilities. The only downside was that he was going to have to extract information far more often to learn as many of these techniques as possible. Taijutsu wasn't important, his own fighting style was something the priests hadn't been able to take from him.
He turned around and lowered Haku's body back into his grave, smoothing over the dirt to make it look like nothing had been disturbed. He was wiping the blood from his mouth before he realised that his hair had fallen loose from his arm again, and when he stood up it fell down to his calves.
His light red eyes drifted to the sword still stuck in the ground. Maybe . . .
Stepping over to the sword, he bent over and pulled his hair taut across the blade. With a quick jerk, the mass fell from his hand to the ground. He stood, and felt the tips of his hair brushing the small of his back. Now that was much better.
He stood up to leave when a flare of familiar chakra caught his attention. His eyes narrowed in rage. No . . .
DON'T MIND ME I'M A LINE BREAK
A few miles away, Team 7 was walking away from Wave, shouts and cheers still echoing over the breeze. Naruto was still a little depressed about Zabuza, Haku and the mission in general.
Sasuke was brooding. That boy . . . he was almost the same age as them. Yet he was so much stronger! The boy's black eyes slid over to Kakashi. Maybe he needed a better sensei?
Sakura stared at her black-haired team mate in awe. She still couldn't believe he was alive. Sasuke had been so cold, so still on the bridge.
Kakashi walked in front of his genin team, reading his Icha Icha while he was scanning the surrounding area for enemies. It wouldn't do to let his cute little genin get attacked now, would it?
All of a sudden, a wizened old man ran out of the forest to the left of the group. Kakashi's eye narrowed, he hadn't even sensed the man coming.
The man's eyes were wide and panicked, but he didn't appear to be hostile. He looked at each of the ninja before his eyes settled on Naruto and widened even further. He stumbled towards the boy, reaching out with his arms and babbling, "You . . . must stop him! The Kimera . . . it has awoken, there is nothing I can do to stop it. But you . . ." He looked as if he was pleading with Naruto, while the ninja looked on in shock. What was he rambling about.?
"Jiji-san! What are you doing out here?" A young man walked out of the forest, silky looking black hair fluttering around his face. His clothes were little more than rags, a condition which the clothes of the old man shared.
The young man kept talking, "You need to get back home jiji-san. You're going to catch your death of the cold out here."
The old man started to gibber and gesture at the young man, who just sighed in exasperation, "And you haven't taken your medicine either! Baa-chan is going to have your head when we get back."
He grabbed the old man's arm, and made to drag him off, but Kakashi stopped him, "Excuse me, but where are you taking this man?" He gestured to the old man. Something about this whole situation sent shivers up his spine. The wind abruptly changed direction, and the scent of old blood drifted to his sensitive nose.
The Copy-Nin instantly moved in front of his students, holding a kunai in his left hand. Even if he wanted to save the old man, he couldn't risk his students.
"Kakashi-sensei?"
He didn't turn to look at any of them, "Stay back. This boy isn't what he's pretending to be."
The boy snarled, "If you'd just gone and left like a good little boy, then we wouldn't have had any problems. But no, you had to be difficult." The old man was still speaking nonsense and trying to wrench his arm free.
Kakashi narrowed his visible eye, "Let the old man go-"
The boy grinned viciously, "I don't think so. I've had far too much of my time wasted by this man and his kind."
The old man spoke up, surprisingly lucid, "Foul creature! You were chained beneath the waves, bound for eternity. You should have never been released, Kimera!"
The boy face darkened, "Yet I'm the one still alive, while your order has been reduced to a single old man." He leant closer, "I win."
Kakashi didn't have time to react as the boy's other fist erupted out of the old man's chest in a shower of blood and bone.
DON'T MIND ME I'M A LINE BREAK
Dun dun dun duuuuuun. And that's it folks. See ya next time
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